


The New Normal

by misswonderheart



Series: The New Normal [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Plug, Dom!Jamie, Dom/sub, Kneeling, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sub!Tyler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misswonderheart/pseuds/misswonderheart
Summary: His new chain is heavy and cool against his neck, pressing into his chest under his practice pads.





	The New Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Fuckin' hockey, man. Fuckin' Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn. [Marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita) read this for me, cause this is all her fault anyway.

Practice actually goes really well, which gives Tyler that warm feeling in his gut some more. He's right that he doesn't remember everyone's names yet, but the drills and formations already feel like they're going to click. The guys give him a lot of encouragement, clapping his shoulder and high-fiving him. Their chirping is friendly too; no one's really got anything on him yet, but they chirp each other, most of them probably in-jokes that Tyler will get eventually. It takes until the end of practice for him to notice that there weren't any sexualized chirps, no _I'll see you on your knees later_ or _I'll shut that smart mouth_.

He doesn't even know how to _start_ processing that. His new chain is heavy and cool against his neck, pressing into his chest under his practice pads.

Everyone heads back into the locker room, and guys are paying him more compliments and telling him they're looking forward to playing with him. He doesn't really know who the subs are yet, though he figures he'll be able to tell sooner or later. He makes eye contact with Jamie once, and Jamie gives him a soft smile and a thumbs up. 

He's mostly out of his pads when Eakin, whose stall is closest to the entrance, bangs on the wall and hollers, "Get decent, you animals, Anna's here!"

"Nothing I haven't seen before!" A woman rounds the corner, brown shoulder length hair and glasses, wearing a Stars green polo shirt and khakis. There's a laugh from the remaining guys, and she gives out a couple of fistbumps on her way over to Tyler's stall. Maybe she's in PR, here to give Tyler the details about how not to be an embarrassment here too? She takes a seat on the bench closest to his stall and holds out a hand.

"Hi Tyler, I'm Anna, the Stars' team dynamic therapist. It's great to have you here in Dallas." She looks at him encouragingly as he shakes her hand, like he's supposed to already know what being a dynamic therapist means. He has a sinking feeling that it really means "sub wrangler."

"Nice to meet you. What... does that job entail exactly?" His fingers are tangled in the laces of his pads, to ground him a little. He’s stalling, really, waiting for more of the guys to filter out of the locker room before she starts talking about his new rules, and who’s gonna be his dom, and whatever else she’s here to tell him about.

"I'm here to provide support for all concerns related to a player's dynamic status, on or off the ice. Anyone who has questions or problems can come to me at any time. I'm technically part of the health team, so I provide equal input into player status checks, and can advocate for benching if that's ever necessary for the health of any player."

"So you... watch out for the subs? Make sure we're good to play?"

"My resources are available to all team members regardless of dynamic status. I provide support to doms, subs, anyone on the dynamic spectrum. I know that Boston didn't have a team support person, so this will be a new resource for you. If you ever have any questions for me, my door is always open, I work on the team's schedule and I come to as many games as possible."

Tyler absorbs this for a moment. He can't really imagine why doms would need a therapist. Does that mean she talks to everyone? That doms can find out what the subs talk to her about? _No,_ he tells himself sternly, _she's got to have some kind of confidentiality thing or it wouldn't work. Don’t be an asshole._

When he doesn't say anything, Anna soldiers on. "So I heard about what happened at lunch today. Is everything going okay so far? Do you have any questions about expectations?" He looks around, but the room is almost totally empty now, and anyone who’s there is on the other side of the room, likely on purpose. He doesn’t even know where to start, and she fills in the gap, trying to draw him out. "They picked a good team necklace for you, silver is obviously the best choice." She tugs at the collar of her shirt to bring his attention to the necklace she's wearing, a thick silver chain with a heart-shaped pendant set with blue sapphires. Tyler had noticed, he always notices people's claim jewelry. She's a sub too, and collared. Maybe if he can trust her, this will actually be helpful.

"Thanks. I like it too. I'm... not sure I made the right first impression, but everyone was very patient with me. Who am I... assigned to? Nobody told me at lunch."

She frowns, ever so slightly, barely enough for Tyler to have noticed. "You're not assigned to anyone, Tyler. You're under no obligation to participate in any dynamic behavior with any member of the Stars, player or staff." That sounds like a canned response, probably written into his contract somewhere, but it feels genuine coming from her.

"Sure, of course not." He gives her a tight smile, and she frowns again. "But the new guy's always assigned to someone, right? Is it just the captain, or is it someone else?"

"You're not assigned to anyone, but yes, I would assume Jamie would be happy to answer any of your questions about practices, travel, etc." She reaches out tentatively and puts her hand on his knee. "Listen, Tyler. The team's got your cell number and email, so I'm going to send you some documents to read. You don't have to read them all today, or even this week, but there will be something you'll need to digitally sign and return to me whenever you're done. That’s going to tell you a lot of what you need to know about playing for the Stars. I suspect that we’re different than you’re used to. Also, I'm going to send you an invite to an appointment with me, where we can talk in private and I can answer any questions you have. I'd like to meet with you once a week until you feel like you're settled in. Meanwhile, you can talk to Jamie, or whatever member of the team you feel comfortable with. I'll text you with my number too, you're welcome to contact me at any time. We're all here to help you get settled and feel comfortable with your new team. We are _truly_ happy to have you."

Tyler believes her. She probably doesn’t know all about what goes on with the players behind closed doors, but he has no doubt that the team has his best interests at heart. They’ve made an investment, after all. He's sure he'll find out what she's allowed to know about soon enough.

She shakes his hand again and leaves, and he realizes that the locker room has emptied completely. He goes to shower so he can get home and figure out what to do for dinner.

~*~

He’s pulling up the map back to his new apartment building when he gets to the parking lot, so he doesn’t see the Benn brothers right away. When he looks up, though, there they are, leaning side by side against a black truck. Jamie says something, and Jordie throws back his head in laughter, whacking the brim of his snapback against the window and pushing it off his head. Jamie laughs at him right back, and Jordie shoves him. The brother energy is strong, even from across the parking lot.

When Jordie spots him, he waves. “Hey Seguin!” Clearly they’ve been waiting for him, so Tyler steels himself and goes over. They’re both smiling, and Tyler tries to resist the sinking feeling that the other shoe is about to drop.

“Hey man, good work at practice today. Me and this asshole live together in your building, so we thought we’d invite you over for dinner.” Jordie shoves Jamie again, and he frowns playfully. “He can’t cook for shit, but I am Jordie the Grillmaster, so we’re gonna have burgers and cold beers. You in?”

They both just seem so… nice. “Burgers sound great. Do I need to bring anything?”

“Nah, Jordie bought enough food to feed an army. You can just come over when you’re ready.”

“Okay, that sounds great, thanks.” He gives them his number, and Jordie texts him their apartment number. Jamie texts him “Hi this is Jamie!” with a poop emoji.

~*~

Their apartment feels like a home, and both the burgers and the beer are really good. The Benn brothers give each other a bunch of shit, but it’s clear that they’re close. They’re a fucking hoot to be around. He’s got that stupid hopeful feeling again.

He can feel that Jamie’s looking at him sometimes, but he’s keeping a polite distance, not trying to assert himself too much. Jordie does not seem to have the same hangups, since he flops down on the couch next to Tyler and says, “Sooo, you’re a sub then? You got people’s attention today, for sure.”

Tyler can feel himself gaping like a fish, but Jamie immediately punches Jordie in the arm, hard enough that Jordie flinches. “Don’t listen to this dick, he’s a neutral, he doesn’t get it.”

Tyler relaxes a little. Jordie seems nice, it’ll be good to have a new neutral friend. “Well, you know, I just wanted to make a good impression on the team.”

“You did,” Jamie says quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to, and then he clears his throat. “We don’t do much dynamic stuff as part of the team, but… I mean, if you’re more of a traditionalist, you can definitely talk about it with Anna and we can figure stuff out.”

Tyler boggles for a moment. In Boston, he would have expected to be on his knees by now; in fact, if memory serves he was on his knees before dinner was finished on the first night he went to the captain’s house. But there’s Jamie, sitting on a separate couch, maintaining a respectful distance, asserting no authority… “I don’t… think of myself as a traditionalist, really. I just… I guess things were more different in Boston than I realized.”

“Oh. Okay, well. Well, you don’t have to, but if you need help with anything let me know. I’m the captain now, so watching out for the team welfare is part of my job.”

“God, he won’t shut up about being the captain, fuuuuck.” Jordie grins at him, and Jamie throws a bottle cap at his forehead.

Tyler sits on the couch as they scrabble, and laughs, and very carefully tries not to think about Jamie’s soft voice in his ear, or how his big hands would feel on Tyler’s skin.

~*~

The first few weeks go by pretty much the same way. They have practice, and a night or two a week he goes to the Benns for dinner. He has dinner with a couple of other teammates too, and buys some more crap to put in his apartment. Eventually Marshall arrives, and it finally starts feeling like home again.

A couple of the subs identify themselves to him, like Eakin. They offer to talk whenever he needs to, and Eakin discreetly emails him about a doms-for-pay service just outside of Dallas, with a couple of recommendations. He’s the only uncollared sub that Tyler has met so far. Tyler texts back a _no luck finding a dom on the team?_, and Eakin says _nah, man, the Stars don’t do that._

Tyler has two meetings with Anna. He read all the documents she sent, but a lot of it is legal jargon, and Tyler spends most of their first meeting just getting her to recap the salient points so he feels comfortable signing the paperwork. At the second meeting, she asks him point blank again about the welcome lunch.

“I won’t ever judge your choices, Tyler, but I hope that no one in management made you feel as if that was expected behavior.”

“No, nobody made me think it was expected.” He smiles at her, but from her subtle frown he can tell she doesn’t buy it. “Like I said, I wanted to make a good first impression.”

She sits back at her desk, crosses her legs and threads her fingers together in her lap. “Tyler, I’m going to say some things right now. You don’t have to agree verbally, or confirm my suspicions, or anything like that. I’m just trying to get a read on the room.” He tries to mirror her calmness, leaning back in the plush armchair in her office, tucking one leg under.

“I get the feeling that the environment for you was very different with the Bruins. I’ve seen their team, I know that they involve dynamics in their locker room. Maybe you liked that behavior, maybe you didn’t. Maybe it was more than you wanted. Maybe you felt like you didn’t have a choice to participate, because you didn’t want to disappoint your team, or have them reject you.”

He carefully lets out a breath, inclines his head for her to continue. She’s pausing to give him space to respond, but he’s not going to say anything one way or another until he hears her out.

“Now that you’re here, you’re probably expecting some of the same stuff to start happening. Maybe you’re thinking it’s weird that you’ve been here for weeks and no one has forced you to your knees yet.” He knows he flinches, and she barrels on, like she’s reading his mind. “You think that sure, there are nice contracts and HR guidelines, but eventually things will start happening where no one can see. You’re waiting for shit to go bad. And if all that is true, then I know you’re not going to believe me yet, but the Stars take this very seriously. If you don’t want to engage with players or staff in a dynamics-based way, and that person or people push the issue, if you report it to me there will be consequences for them. Also, I have a green belt in krav maga, I _have_ fought a hockey player and won, and I will do it again if necessary.”

Tyler laughs, a little, but she looks deadly serious. In that moment, he believes that she could kick his ass, no questions asked. He feels tension creeping out of his shoulders, like a deflating balloon. “I definitely believe that. And I believe you, okay? You’re right, it was different in Boston. Really different.”

She sags a little too, like it was tough for her to face him down like that. “I can tell. You aren’t under any obligation to tell me about it, but if you ever need to talk about what happened there, I’m here to listen. And, if necessary, take action on your behalf with the Bruins management.”

Tyler flinches hard at that, like he just got checked. “No, nothing like that, it’s fine.” He knows he says it too quickly for her keen instincts, but they’ll deal with that only when -- _if_ \-- he’s forced to. 

The little frown crosses her forehead again, but Anna smiles. They’re both quiet, and then Tyler asks the thing that’s been gnawing at him since the first day. “So… what would be the protocol if I _did_ want to engage in… a dynamic-based relationship? With a team member?”

Anna grins, wider this time, and reaches into her desk for another set of papers.

~*~

It’s possible, it’s totally possible for him to have a dom on the team, if he wants it. Anna gave him a whole guidebook, which might as well have been titled “How To Fuck Your Teammate: A Stars Guide To Getting Laid.” Relationships aren’t against the Stars rules, romantic or dynamics based, as long as a professional attitude is maintained. Tyler could totally be professional on his knees in the locker room, his head resting against someone’s thigh as he waits for the game to start. That would be so easy.

His meeting was after optional skate, so he just goes home after, takes Marshall out for a quick walk and then sets himself up in the bedroom. It’s been almost a month since he’s been on his knees for a Bruin, and he’s starting to feel stretched too thin, itchy and restless. He’s got his coping methods, though.

He starts with getting naked, setting up a cushion on the floor to kneel on. Then comes the plug, blunt and thick, and he coats it with lube before he pushes it inside with only a quick tease to get himself ready. It’s heavy and almost too thick, enough stretch and weight that he can’t forget it’s there. Next are his cuffs, thick black with padding and a D-ring on each side, with a carabiner-style clip to hold them together. He can hook them together himself behind his back, and when he’s ready to get out he can easily reach the hook to disconnect them again. It strains his shoulders a little to hold that position, but he knows it’ll feel okay once he gets going.

Finally, he’s kneeling next to the bed, full up and feeling the burn of muscles across his shoulders, and he lets his head fall forward and tries to relax. He imagines things from before he was in Boston (he doesn’t like to think about Boston anymore). In juniors he hooked up with a few of the doms, not for romance or sex but just to take the edge off. Doms can be so tightly wound at that age, wanting so badly to take care of someone and not yet having the tools or the education to do it properly. Tyler paces his breathing, thinking about one year where a kid named Peter dommed him for half the season before he figured out he was a neutral. Tyler never minded it back then; the doms got to practice, and Tyler got to submit, and some of it was really satisfying and… peaceful. 

It’s not the same like this, it never is, but he can slowly feel the tension trickle out of his body as he relaxes, guiding his nervous energy into holding his position perfectly with the weight of the plug filling him up. He grays out a little at the edges, though he doesn’t really go under, but after an hour or so passes he feels marginally better. _Good job, man, you did it just right_ floats through his head, almost like someone was there to praise him, and he pushes into that feeling as he unhooks his wrists, takes his aching dick in hand and gets himself off, quick and efficient. He wipes his come into his belly, wishing that it was someone else marking him, and then he tries to stay in the afterglow as long as he can until he needs to move and clean himself up. He only lets himself spend a few minutes thinking about how nice it would be to have Jamie there taking care of him, stroking the back of his neck and cleaning their come off his skin.

He is so, _so_ fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about hockey canon, sorry if I messed something up. Thanks for your comments, I will answer them soon I promise. There will be more, but no idea when because real life happens sometimes.


End file.
